A Far Better Rest
by Razgriz Ace
Summary: "I wish we'd had more time. I think I could have loved you." There is healing and just a bit of stealing to be done after Selina leaves Gotham behind her. (Bruce & Selina, after DKR and before Italy)
1. The Worst of Times

A/N: Note sure how long this one is going to be yet. Right now it's looking like probably three parts. Also, I love reviews. Please leave me a review.

Obligatory disclaimer: If I owned any of them I'd be on the Warner Lot swimming in a pool of money like Scrooge McDuck. ;)

* * *

"You're sure you won't be coming?" Jim Gordon asked, as he vacated the rickety chair.

Selina nodded, standing to clear their mugs. The irony of having just made tea for Jim Gordon was not lost on her, but it was still low on the list of recent ridiculous events in her life.

"I don't belong there," she told him flatly.

"You have a right to mourn him as much as anyone," he eyed her carefully before adding, "Maybe more."

She knew he was thinking about the kiss she planted on Batman before the bomb went off. Jim likely thought she and Bruce had been lovers. The twist in her stomach that accompanied the thought surprised her.

"I'm sure you boys will manage fine without me." She set the dishes in the sink and returned to the packing that Gordon had interrupted. She gestured to a small stack of books on the end table next to him and he held them out to her.

"There is prodigious strength in sorrow and despair," he quoted.

"What?"

Gordon held up the top book of the stack. "A Tale of Two Cities. Exiled nobility. Anarchy. Kangaroo courts. Actually quite fitting given the times."

Selina shrugged, "Never read it. That's stolen."

"So the monogramed bookmark isn't yours either?" he said, holding up the little strip of cardboard that slipped from the pages of the book. His mustache twitched as he smirked.

She said nothing, but snatched the rest of the books from him, stuffing them violently in her bag. "Keep it."

Gordon dusted off the cover of the book almost affectionately before flipping through it. "It's a first edition. In other times I would worry that this was a bribe."

"I wouldn't dream of it Commissioner," she said wryly. "It should be with someone who will appreciate it."

His eyes lightened too as he tucked the book under his arm. "Thank you."

She zipped her bag closed and slung it over her shoulder. She was only taking with her the essentials and the items of which she couldn't part. So not much. The sum of her possessions fit into two average duffle bags. She picked up her other bag and signaled to Gordon that they should both make their exits.

He didn't patronize her by offering to carry a bag, but he did hold the door open for her. He put his pipe in his mouth, chewing on the end.

"You know you could stay in Gotham. No one seems to be able to find your file anywhere. Some think it got torched along with the files on The Batman." He struck a match, watching the flame just a few moments longer than necessary before lighting his tobacco. "I've no idea how something like that could have happened," he added, as he blew out the stick very deliberately.

"Thank you, but we both know I need to go," she said. She dropped her keys onto the doormat of her walk-up for emphasis. Gordon followed her down the stairs to the stoop of her apartment. The day was grey and there was a bit of a chill in the air.

"I'm guessing we won't be seeing each other again," he said once they got to the steps outside. She nodded. He extended a hand to her. "Then I hope you find whatever it is you are looking for. Do try to keep out of trouble, Miss Kyle."

She shook his hand and tossed a coy smile his way, "No promises." She gave him a once over. "You're a good man Commissioner. An endangered species in this world. Try not to forget that."

Nodding, he puffed on his pipe, tucked his hands deep in his pockets and strode quietly in the opposite direction. She watched him go until he turned the corner.

She set off, once again alone.

* * *

She was supposed to be on a bus bound for Central City. Damn the awakening of her long dormant conscience. Selina had never been one for goodbyes. Yet, she could not suppress the obligation to pay her respects to him. He deserved that much from her. Making her way across the abandoned Wayne estate, the ground soft from winter's thaw, she cursed for the very first time her ever impractical choice of shoe. Her heels sank into the damp soil throwing off her usual grace. Selina Kyle was not a woman who liked _trudging._ The breeze picked up and she pulled her coat tighter around herself.

The funeral was long over, the outline of muddy foot prints that surrounded the three marble markers, the only sign anyone had been there. She slowed as she neared the head stones, rather uncertain to what exactly she was doing here. Gotham's favorite son had been laid to rest with only four people there to mourn him. Another pang of guilt shot through her. The injustices of this world would never cease to astound her.

"You damned idiot," she said to the stone. She took the fabric eye mask she had worn to the masquerade months eariler from her pocket and kneeled down onto the grave. The mud's dampness seeped through her pants and the cold nipped at her knees. She positioned the small mask among the bouquet of flowers left there. "I hope you're happy with yourself. You went and made an honest woman out of me," she smiled then. "Mostly."

She ran her hand along the etching of his name. "We could have been great you and me. The Bat and The Cat. You would have liked chasing me." Her voice didn't waver or crack, but to anyone listening there would have been no mistaking her sorrow. She sat there for another minute, suddenly feeling incredibly stupid. "Goodbye Mr. Wayne."

She stood up, and tried in vain to wipe the mud from her pants. She strode a bit away, then paused and turned back to the stone. "I wish we'd had more time," she said, tucking her hands into her coat pockets, "I think I could have loved you."

For one mad moment she expected to see him as she turned around again. The disappointment that swelled within her at the sight of the empty grounds only served to fuel the anger she felt towards herself. She tilted her head down against the wind and started trudging back to the street.


	2. The Epoch of Belief

A/N: I extend into other parts of the DCU in the middle of this chapter. For people who are into that I think you'll like it. For everyone who hates that, no worries this is the only chapter where we'll spend real time with someone from outside the Nolanverse. :)

* * *

The mp3 of Mozart's fortieth ran exactly nine minutes on Selina's ipod. As the song came to a close and Requiem-Lacrimosa began she realized that she was a good thirty seconds behind schedule. She climbed higher along the side of the elevator shaft, and began to pick up the pace.

The small fire she had set in the bathroom ensured that the building would automatically shut down the elevators. The security reset that would take place during that time gave her a ten minute window in which the motion detectors in the shaft were turned off. She needed to be out of the shaft by the timethey came back on. Leaning back on the cable she was climbing she lept to the maintenance ladder on the side of the shaft. She reached the elevator doors and removed the collapsible crowbar from her belt and began work on the doors.

In truth, if this wasn't such a high stakes heist she would be having a blast right now. Retirement had been boring her. She had been trying to get out of the game for so long that she didn't realize that she had forgotten how to do just about anything else. She had enough money that she didn't have to work, but idleness didn't suit her either. So she found the best way she could to amend her profession. After all, stealing in the name of justice could hardly be called stealing. She figured that even Bruce would have approved of what she was doing.

She pulled herself onto the floor with ease once the door was open. Climbing an elevator shaft up forty-seven stories without a harness in around ten minutes had been only the first challenge. The hall she was to enter was accessible only from the elevator shaft and was lined with infrared cameras and a laser grid.

The infrared was easy enough to get around. The full body suit she was wearing had been custom made for her by a former Spetsnaz tech officer a few years previous. Its design was based on polar bear fur, and insulated the body so well that it prevented her from giving off any noticeable heat signature. However, the mask did make it a bit difficult to breathe.

The grid was a bigger problem. She turned her goggles on the get a clear look. She sighed. In other circumstances she would spend weeks limbering up for job like this. She stretched her arms.

The secret to grids like this one was speed. Selina had actually laughed when she finally got around to watching the movie Entrapment. Any laser field worth having was either in a constant state of motion or randomly scrambled every few minutes. It was ludicrous to try to rehearse for hours to put a single grid into muscle memory. It was all about momentum and geometry. Every laser has a specific range and radius. One had to be able to calculate the angles of the lasers and be able to translate what that meant for body movement. It was about watching and then letting go.

The bad news was that this particular field was of the constantly moving variety. The good news was that it seemed that there was a specific pattern. Selina watched and counted out the pace.

"Here goes nothing," she whispered to herself.

She put her back to the grid and flipped into a back handstand Both hands on the ground she straightened her body into a line as two lasers crossed just beyond her nose. She rotated backward and landed on her feet. A quick pierrottet to the side to avoid being tagged and then she ducked into a forward roll and back into a handstand. She tucked one arm in and then, supporting all her weight on one hand, pushed herself up and over into the last red line.

She had a latex copy of the thumbprint she needed to enter the next room. That left only single lead lined safe between her and her score. A safe that from all accounts was uncrackable.

But then no one had ever said that to her directly.

* * *

Selina thumbed through a copy of the Daily Planet as she settled into the backseat of her taxi. She had always hated Metropolis. The streets were unnaturally clean. The people were unnaturally nice. The entire place felt false. Gotham might be a rotted apple, but at least it wasn't a gilded one.

She stopped on a picture of Lex Luthor and nearly crumpled the page. Anyone with that much money should have enough sense to realize that he couldn't pull off white suits that far north of Havana. God, even the villains were cheesy there.

The driver pulled in front of the Metropolis Grand. She bit her tongue when she was greeted by the overzealous door man, who in previous times would have been met with an undeserved snide remark. She thanked him and tipped him, wondering when exactly she had learned that sort of restraint.

She also bit back a sigh as she entered the lobby. She used to love the extravagant hotel. Stealing her place beside the wealthy elite who resided here had once given her a feeling of accomplishment. Now the crystal chandeliers and overly polished floors put a knot in her stomach. It was just something else that reminded her of Gotham. Reminded her of Bruce.

The hotel bar at least was a little more her style, rustic rather than opulent. She spotted the reporter she was meeting at a secluded table on the back patio, talking on her cell phone. As she approached Selina heard the other brunette putting an end to her conversation.

"I have to go…because I have a meeting. No. No…because Hayseed you're never going to survive if I walk you through everything. Alright. I have to go." She threw the phone into the purse and stood to greet Selina.

"Miss Dubrovna, nice to finally meet you in person. Sorry about that," she said, nodding toward the phone. "Just breaking in the new guy at work. He's trying to rock the boat."

"Isn't that your job?" Selina quipped.

Lois Lane smirked; blue eyes alight, "Yes. Yes it is." She offered her hand to Selina, "Welcome to Metropolis." They shook hands and took their seats.

It was only a few weeks after Lois's feature about Gotham ran, and Selina had heard the word 'Pulitzer' already being thrown around. That she was attractive had just put more wind in her sails. The job offers had come pouring in. News outlets all over the country were trying to poach her from her desk at 'The Daily Planet.' So far she had turned down cushy on screen reporting offers with CNN, Gotham Tonight, and Good Day LA with the simple statement that shows weren't her style. Word had even gotten out that other Planet reporters referred to Lois as 'MadDog' Lane, so rabid was her need for the truth. Though whether the nickname was a compliment or a slight really remained to be seen.

When they first met to set their meeting it had been via Skype, Selina had expected someone grizzled, possibly with a cheap haircut and orthopedic shoes. As the poster girl for deceiving looks she should have known better. Lois couldn't have been much older than Selina, but her articles - particularly the one that had brought Selina to Metropolis – had a worldly cynicism to them. Selina liked that.

A waiter came over and set water on the table. Lois removed the lemon wedge from the corner of her glass and squeezed it into her water. Selina noted the mischievous glint in the reporter's eye as she did so and began to think that was one of Lois's permanent attributes.

"So, what is it that you wanted to discuss? Specifically, what is it that's important enough for you to come all the way here to discuss it, Irena?"

The alias was still a little foreign to Selina's ears, but she smiled anyway. "Your article on Gotham and Wayne Enterprises."

"I'm not at liberty to discuss anything I may or may not know about the FTC or SEC's outlook on the matter or whether any investigations are pending," Lois said. The words left her in a manner to suggest that someone -most likely an official from the FTC or SEC - had forced her to say it back to them repeatedly.

It meant that there was indeed a proper investigation going to be opened. The second the occupation of Gotham was over Fox had once again tried to push for a fraud investigation to no result. Lois had been the one to get a hold of all the financial records and stitch together a shockingly accurate account of the night the stock exchange was invaded. A good portion of Roland Daggett's elaborate illegal dealings were exposed too; unveiled in such detail that Selina was almost stunned that she wasn't mentioned by name. The government had no choice but to look into it now.

Still, none of that is what concerned Selina about the article.

"I was hoping you could tell me about Lex Luthor," she said.

Lois bristled. "What about him?"

So Luthor was a sore subject. Interesting. Good.

"That he would have been in a prime position to take over Daggett Industries once Daggett absorbed Wayne. You do everything but explicitly say that he was behind the attempt to steal Wayne," Selina elaborated.

Lois's eyes narrowed. "Everything but. Without proof that would be libel."

"But you think it's true?"

"Like I said before, there's no proof." Lois was looking suspicious now, the playfulness in her eyes morphing into something much darker. The air of suspicion settled over them. Selina looked over the woman carefully.

"I don't work for him if that's what you're afraid of."

"I'm not afraid of Lex Luthor," Lois snapped.

"I'm not trying to play you here. Trust me, if I was you wouldn't know it was happening."

"Who are you?" No one could accuse Lois of beating around the bush.

"Bruce Wayne was a friend. His death came as a direct result of Daggett helping terrorists infiltrate Gotham. Daggett got his comeuppance, but Luthor is still king of kings." It was all she had left. The clean slate program was supposed to allow her a new start, but scrubbing her name clean did not free her of her own compunction. Maybe taking down Luthor could be her penance. Or at the very least give her enough peace of mind to finally move on. "I can tell you're sure he's guilty. Why?"

Lois's expression softened, though her seriousness did not fade. "Someone in the office leaked what I was working on. Luthor tried to stop me from writing it."

"He threatened you?"

Lois shook her head. "He tried to pay me off. Nothing so crass as a direct bribe. He's too smart for that, but he offered me a five year contract in the top PR spot at LexCorp. Two mil a year. I understood the implication."

"And you turned him down? Ten million dollars is a lot of money."

"If I want to sell my integrity I'll auction it off for a book deal after I topple LexCorp. I won't be Luthor's whore."

It was right then that Selina decided she liked Lois Lane.

"You're an interesting woman. I'm beginning to get the whole 'MadDog' thing."

Lois shrugged, "Guilty."

Selina unzipped a pocket on her wallet and pulled out a tube of lipstick and handed it to Lois. "A gift for you."

Lois popped the cap and looked at it. "It's not really my color."

"Unscrew it," Selina instructed.

Undoing the bottom revealed a USB plug.

"What is this?" Lois asked, but pulled her tablet out of her purse before the words were finished leaving her mouth.

"Your proof," Selina replied. Lois shot her a look of disbelief before plugging the drive into her tablet, the exposed lipstick smearing all over her hand. "E-mails. Phone conversations. Travel logs," Selina continued, "Everything you need to put him away. Not sure which crimes you can actually make stick, but there's enough there to prove that he's broken a handfull of federal laws in the past year alone."

Lois had her attention on the screen. She tapped open file after file, looking more stunned each time. "You got into his server at LexCorp?"

"You knew about the server?"

Lois didn't look up from the files as she spoke. "I'd heard rumors of it, but I thought even if existed it would be impossible to get to."

"Almost impossible. Luthor is extremely paranoid, but also incredibly arrogant. He's a genius, but his downfall will be in thinking that he's more clever than everyone. He wanted to keep his blackmail stock intact even if the information incriminated him as well. As protected as it was it would have been safer to just not keep those files. But like I said - arrogance."

"How did you do it?" Lois asked.

"Probably better if you don't know the details."

That brought Lois's eyes up from the tablet and the impish glint returned full force. "I figured you were good. The couple of people I talked to said you were the best, but you're something else entirely."

That managed to catch Selina off guard. "I have no idea what you mean," she said pointedly. A hasty exit was her first instinct. She stood up to leave.

"Don't be so dramatic Selina," Lois said, "The enemy of my enemy and all that." She casually took a napkin from the holder on the table and wiped the lipstick smudges from her hands.

The use of her real name drew Selina back to her seat. Her mind running to find a way to spin this unforeseen turn of events. Yet, she knew what it looked like when someone had an agenda, and the smile playing on the edge of Lois's mouth didn't fit the profile. It was a smug expression, but there was no malice behind it. Maybe honesty would actually work. "So I guess the cat burglar is out of the bag," she quipped.

"Irena Dubrovna was a character in the 1942 movie Cat People. A pert alias, but I'm guessing those bold misdirects usually work for you don't they?"

"You'd be shocked how well," Selina said, suddenly at ease. In another time and place the two of them probably would have been friends. It seemed as though Lois was having the same feeling.

Her hands now clean, Lois took a pack of cigarettes from her purse, tapped one out and put it in her mouth. She popped her lighter and paused before she lit it. "Do you mind?"

"Not at all."

Lois lit it and took a long drag. "It's a filthy addiction, I know. I started it to piss off my father and now the joke's on me."

Selina watched her tap some ash onto the ground. "I'm an accidental expert in bad habits. What you need is a proper motivator, someone who expects more of you."

"Is that so?" Lois asked, her look a little too knowing. Selina realized how she had just implicated herself and shifted in her seat. She shook her head, making it clear this wasn't a topic up for discussion. "Fair enough," Lois said, taking a small key from her purse. "In exchange for the flash-drive, I have a gift for you as well," she slid the key across the table. "Our crime desk printed files on all of the convicts who escaped from Blackgate right after the takeover. Seeing as you somehow managed to wipe away your digital footprint I assumed you wouldn't want your mugshot floating about."

Selina examined the little key, "Safe deposit box?"

Lois nodded. "Not at the bank though. V.I.P. security at the Hilton."

"That's where I'm staying."

"Imagine that."

"Clever. But why not just just bring it with you?"

"When you made contact I swiped it for insurance." Lois gestured to Selina with her cigarette. "If you were one of Luthor's goons I was going to blackmail the crap out of you."

"I admire the way you business Lane. Though you do realize it's insane for us to trust each other."

"Look at the places we're from. We're all a little mad."

Selina held in a snicker, she was feeling lighter than she had in months. "The best people usually are."

* * *

The Hilton security officer lead her into a room where she could open the box in privacy.

Selina couldn't remember if she had ever been in a room of safe deposit boxes with an actual key. She wasn't sure if the thought was funny or sad.

She was ready to grab the file and set it ablaze. There couldn't possibly be many more hard copies of files like this one, but its existence had her thinking more and more about leaving for Europe. She had been constantly on the move since she had left Gotham. Going abroad could be a nice change of pace, maybe even a chance to settle down. The time felt right for a change.

She slipped the key in the lock, but there was no file when she lifted the key to the box. There was only a long flat velvet box that pulled the air completely from her lungs. She snapped it open and her knees nearly buckled at the sight of Martha Wayne's pearls.

It had to be a sick joke. Lois didn't seem a likely suspect, which meant someone else had to be on to her. A twisted veiled threat from Luthor maybe?

She practically ran back to her room, her knuckles white around the black box. She had never bothered to properly unpack so she stuffed a few stray items into the bag and made her way back to the lobby.

She waited in line to check out properly hoping to get out of the hotel under as normal circumstances as possible.

"I'm sorry you'll be leaving us early Ms. Dubrovna," the concierge said. "Was there anything you found unsatisfactory?"

"Not at all," Selina answered a little breathless. She kept looking about, keeping an eye out for anything suspicious. "I just have to cut my trip short unfortunately."

"Our loss then," the man smiled. "Have a safe trip home. Oh and your husband left this for you." He turned to grab a small square of paper from a shelf behind him and held it out to her.

"My husband?"

"Yeah, he just said you'd be checking out early and to tell you that he would take a cab."

She took the slip of paper and her heart leapt into her throat. For the second time in a quarter of an hour the wind was knocked out of her.

It was a valet ticket.

* * *

A/N: I've wanted to write a scene with those two ladies for a long time. I figured, Gordon was probably the only cop Selina would have trusted and he would have had his hands full right about then. :) Please leave a review!


	3. The Spring of Hope

A/N: Thank you to everyone who has reviewed this so far. You're all wonderful! Here is part 3. I'm thinking there is going to be at least one more chapter. Maaayybbeee two. We'll see where Selina takes me.

Also, I'm sorry updates are taking so long. My recent employment had really been a killjoy on my writing.

* * *

Selina parked at the end of a long gravel driveway. When the valet at the Hilton had brought the black Lamborghini around she had found nothing inside but a pre-programmed GPS set for Evanston, Illinois and a house key. Her mind had been blank for several hours. The ability of processing anything other than the green line on the GPS had left her for the entire drive to the Chicago suburb.

It was a nice neighborhood, upper middle class where every walkway had expensive rose bushes but every driveway had sensible family sedans. The house she had pulled up to was set back into a hillside at the end of the road. Unlike the other homes on the block it wasn't easily accessible from the street, allowing for privacy from bored yuppies peering over their picket fences. It was a large long-standing pastoral home with several chimneys. The lilac bushes out front made Selina think she was walking through a Thomas Kinkade print.

She steadied her hand, steeling herself as she unlocked the front door. It opened into a foyer, the walls and floors there were made from matching mahogany. She stepped further inside and the heavy front door fell closed behind her.

Stepping into the doorway on her right she found a well put together study. On the main wall there were two bookcases filled with heavy leather volumes, a roaring fireplace in between them. The only sign that the room existed in this century was the large flat screen television mounted on the far wall. Under the television, two wooden end tables sat in between two plush leather chairs.

On one of the chairs sat a folded quilt and a stack of newspapers. On the other, a supposedly dead billionaire drinking a cup of tea.

Bruce lounged with his feet up on an ottoman. He was kicked back and looking comfortable in a pair of plain black slacks and a white button down shirt. He looked well. In fact, he looked better than she ever remembered seeing him. His shoulders were relaxed, there weren't any bags under his eyes and his hair had a healthy wave to it.

Two very primal instincts struck Selina at the sight of him. The first was to pull him to his feet and punch his lights out. The second was to sit in his lap and kiss that casual look off his stupid face. The thoughts cancelled each other out and she ended up rooted there glaring at him.

Upon her entrance, he set his cup on a saucer and placed them on the end table. He stood up like a proper gentleman to greet her. His eyes dropped to her neckline- to the pearls- and she saw the corner of his mouth twitch. The bastard.

"I saw you get incinerated in a mushroom cloud," she said coldly.

"Auto-pilot," he answered.

"Of course." She did her best to remain aloof. "You wanted to see me?"

He nodded and as he closed the space between them the silence extended.

"You have something of mine," he said once he had gotten too close for her liking.

She folded her arms defensively, "I thought they were a gift."

"I'm not talking about the pearls." He took her hand in his. He kissed her knuckles, before holding her hand to his chest with both of his own. Right over his heart.

It was so unrelentingly corny that she nearly strained something in the process of not rolling her eyes. Yet, his words and expression were so earnest that she felt her insides twist. It was clear why lesser women melted under his charm. She snatched her hand back.

"I'm not one of your socialite bimbos, Wayne." She put as much venom into the words as she could muster. Cats scratched when you corned them.

"You asked me once to run away with you," he said.

"No. I asked you to leave a city that was about to become a giant nuclear crater with me. Big difference."

"But you came back for me then," he pointed out.

"I came back for millions of lives I didn't want on my conscience."

She brushed past him to put distance between them again.

"You're rationalizing."

"Why would I do that?" she spat.

"Because," he said, exploiting every bit of his playboy confidence. "You don't want to admit that we have something here."

"We don't."

"Just admit you care."

"I don't."

"Then why go through all the trouble of the Luthor heist?"

"Revenge. Daggett played me for a fool under Luthor's scheme."

"Alright, but then why did you drive five hours to get here from Metropolis?" he asked. His expression was smug, clearly assuming she wouldn't have a sufficient answer for that one.

She clawed again. "I wanted that file back," she lied.

"It's already gone," he said. She could see his scrutiny. He was trying to read her. She wasn't going to let him.

"Then so am I."

She stormed out and back to the car. For someone who had spent a good portion of her adult life detached from everything, Selina was having a hard time wading through the flood of emotions that had just been opened up.

There had been a knot in her heart that she had not even realized was there until she set eyes on him again, and the ligature was undone. She did not believe in love at first sight. Infatuation at first sight, maybe. Lust at first sight, definitely. But love at first sight was a contrivance invented for storytelling and entertainment. She had spent maybe half a day total with Bruce, so it was impossible to believe in the feeling burning in her chest or the core deep understanding she found in his eyes.

It was much easier to be angry than to process how to feel. It was even easier to run.

He followed her outside. "Selina, wait!" He was limping and had a hard time keeping up with her. "Can we talk about this?" She opened the car door, and continued ignoring him. "You said once that you wished we had more time," he called after her.

She stopped then and did him the courtesy of looking at him as she spoke. "I thought you were dead." The implication in her voice was clear. _You weren't supposed to hear that._

"We have all the time in the world now." He took her hand again and leaned in closer his voice soft, "We're free."

She slammed the car door closed and once again took her hand back. "To do what, Bruce? Ride off into the sunset? Settle down somewhere with a picket fence and a goddamned dog?!" The harshness of her words pushed him back a step and for a fraction of a section she was glad for it.

"Why not? Why can't it be that? Why can't it be _exactly _that?!" His calm reasoning tone just fueled her anger.

"Because, I sold you out!" she shouted. Suddenly, the doubts pressing into the back of her mind came pouring out of her mouth. "I served you up to save myself."

"It wasn't like that," he tried to get closer again, and this time she gave him a hard shove in the shoulder.

"You're a fool if you think it wasn't!"

"You wouldn't be the first one to accuse me of that."

"You want to know why we can't have a happily ever after? Because that's now how things work for people like me!"

The confession pulled the fight from her. She dropped her head, breathing deeply in an attempt to recapture her composure.

There was a long moment before he spoke. They just stood there listening to the bushes rustle in the wind and Selina's uneven breathe. She decided she hated the smell of lilacs.

"Can we go back inside?" he asked, gently. "I'd like to say my peace and there's a bit of a chill in the air."

She nodded, followed him in. She had been preoccupied when she had first entered the house and only now did realize how drastic the change in temperature was between inside and the lawn. The heat suddenly made it difficult to breathe.

She followed him back into the study. He stood staring into the fire for a few moments before looking back at her.

"Selina, what happened with Bane was inevitable," he said. "The truth is I was looking for that showdown, and even if you hadn't set me up, even if I had time to prepare, it would have ended the same way. I couldn't have beat him then. I wasn't read too."

She shook her head, the guilt of what she condemned him to taking point on the emotions running through her. "It doesn't change what I did."

"No, it doesn't. But it makes it forgivable."

She let out a breathe. Forgiveness. That's what these past few months had been about after all. This time she didn't retreat when he stepped closer to her nor did she try to force him back.

"I'm sorry," she said. The wood floorboards groaned with each step he took toward her, creaking permission to his approach.

"I know," he said simply. He was impossibly close now.

"I'm not the person you think I am," she whispered.

"Maybe not," he said, leaning his forehead against hers. "But you aren't the person you're convinced you are either."

It was the third kiss they had shared, but the first one without any masks.

* * *

**A/N: I love comments. I'm a comment floozy. **


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